All week we have been wrapped in thick, wet fog. Cool, gray, drizzly, dense fog that keeps our vision close and our temperatures low. And for all the dreariness, it has been magical. Oklahoma rarely has this many consecutive foggy days. I find it perfectly enchanting.
Walking around the farm, the intense moisture slicks my eyeballs and makes my wavy hair curly. The ground is saturated. Spongy. We look for the animals around the farm but only see them as blue shadows and silhouettes emerging from the blurry distance. And barely a breeze moves the naked trees.
The Pine Forest is a still life of flat, sharp edges, a painted cardboard scene for a fairy tale puppet show. All dressed in that enchanted fog.
I can feel the clock hands slowing down under the weight of it all, and it is wonderful.
Of course driving in the heavy fog takes special care, too. You absolutely must go slowly, and your lights cannot be too direct, too far reaching. The fog draws us in, folds us over onto ourselves a bit, shrinks our vision. This frustrates some people, but it’s temporary.
Everything, after all, is temporary.
Mysteries that seem unfathomable are dissolved in the warm light of truth. Terrible walls crumble apart. People are reunited by Love in ways that no one might predict.
The fog eventually lifts.
So if you are feeling socked in by life, if you’re having trouble seeing very far into the future, take heart. Sometimes that’s just how it is. Take a deep breath then let it out, slowly. Be very still and quiet. Take a look around yourself, right exactly where you are. There is plenty to be done in this moment, and there is plenty to enjoy, too.
Don’t be bothered by the fog. It will eventually thin out and disappear completely. The horizon will be clear again, your vision full. Soon the sun will be dazzling bright again, maybe when you least expect it.
Until that moment, be here. Be very present and calm, very still and safe in this moment, and enjoy the world’s magical appearance. Soon the rest of it will be revealed.
Take therefore no thought for the morrow:
for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.
Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.